Counting the Steps
by damnyankee
Summary: SPOILER ALERT Do not read if you don't want to know anything about the end of the season. If I summarize, it will give things away, so just read it.


**TITLE:** Counting the Steps

**RATING:** PG

**SPOILERS**: YES YES YES….do NOT read if you don't want to know what is going to happen at the end of the season.

**SUMMARY**: I read the spoilers for the last epi of season 11, and couldn't help myself. This, in my opinion, is a chance for the two to finally reunite…or else it may be over for good.

He walked slowly, approaching his street. Head down, he pondered.

He couldn't believe he was really leaving.

He pulled his keys out of his pocket as he opened the gate to his house, eyes still gazing everywhere but in front of him.

"I see you follow your own words of wisdom," a voice said, forcing him to finally focus on something specific. She rose from where she was seated on his step, brown hair (how long had it been that way?) falling around her shoulders. He froze in mid-step, halfway between the gate and his door. His heart seemed to stop beating. He could not form words.

She smiled, and his body was warm again. His heart resumed its rhythm. He felt his throat open, allowing his voice to project.

"Hey." It wasn't much, but it was a start.

"Hey." She took a step forward. Only six more steps, and they would be sharing breath. "I missed your party."

"I know." He almost felt shy admitting that he noticed, but there wasn't time to preempt the honesty. There was time to redirect it, though. "You didn't miss much."

"Still…I mean, this is a big deal, right? Doctor Carter's Last Day." She slipped her hands into her back pockets, realizing that she was trying to make light of something that wasn't light at all. "I should have been there."

"It's okay, Abby, really. You had a shift, I'm sure you were busy…"

"No, Carter." She paused. Took another step; only five to go. Her tone and expression were solemn. "I hated for you to leave and for us to never…say…goodbye." For a second, it seemed her voice caught, that she was fighting the emotion. Before he could figure it out, she had regained her composure.

"I know," he replied, quietly. Looking at her was too intense; he shifted his eyes around his small yard, up to the starlit sky, and, finally, back to her. She was still watching him. "I think part of me thought you hadn't wanted to be there. Not that I could blame you…"

Another step forward.

"No. I really, really wanted to be there. I wanted to say…I wanted to tell you…" she paused, looking away, frustrated that she couldn't find the right words. She ran her fingers through her hair, blowing breath out of her lungs. Finally her gaze rested back on him. "I just wanted to say that you'll be missed. There is no one that could ever fill your shoes." This didn't appear to satisfy her, but she had nothing more to say.

"Thank you." One step forward. Three more to go. "Although I doubt very much that that's true." He looked meaningfully at her then, implying things that neither one could mistake. He took one more step, until it became too dangerous to go any further. "Abby, I…I'm sorry I…I don't know how…"

"What?" This was uttered almost inaudibly, through a closed throat. She was afraid of and desperate for whatever candor he was about to speak. After seconds, he sighed, discouraged, once again watching the ground.

"I would have said goodbye. I would never have left without saying goodbye." It was obvious to both of them that this was not what he meant to say, but it was going to have to be enough. There was no time for anything else.

They stood in silence for a small eternity, watching the other like cats waiting for the other to pounce.

Neither did.

"I guess…I'm sure you have things to do. I've got…an early shift in the morning." This was a lie, they both knew. "I'll get going." She moved past him, eyes down, and slowed at the gate. Carter turned to watch her, then allowed himself to speak.

"Abby." She stopped and rotated around to look at him. He waited just a moment, looking at her eyes, which were at once fearful and sad. He fought with the words wrestling inside, settling for the road already taken. "Thanks for coming here. I wouldn't have wanted to leave without seeing you." She smiled slightly. At least he offered her this.

"Me either," she responded, then turned and walked away.

Once inside, Carter couldn't move. Now, not only could he not believe he was leaving, he couldn't believe what an asshole he was. Despite all the time, despite all the fighting, despite the distance that had grown between them, they were still…what? There was still something there. Why couldn't he have just said it? **_I can't believe how much I still love you_.**

He shook his head, knowing that now it was too late. It was always too late. He always screwed it up, and he would never be able to get it right. How could you even begin to revive something like that, something that had seemingly died so long ago?

And yet he still loved her, yearned for her, felt he couldn't live another moment without her.

He took a few steps into the house, setting down his bag and kicking off his shoes, avoiding the boxes that were strewn everywhere. He moved his foot to step onto the stairs when he heard a small knock on the door. He paused his foot in midair, turning his head back to the entrance, furrowing his brow. **_Who?_**

The knock got louder the second time, and he moved to the door. He didn't even look through the peephole to see who it was before opening it.

There she was. His second chance. Or fiftieth. Who was counting anymore?

"Hey." She looked embarrassed but desperate.

"Abby, what-?" He opened the door a little wider; confusion prevented him from asking her in.

"Don't go." She bit her lip after saying this, realizing how naked this made her.

"Wait…what?" He shook his head, trying hopelessly to grasp what she was saying.

"Don't leave. I can't…watch you leave anymore. I can't stand losing you." She was pleading with him, her eyes and words and whole being trying to latch onto any part of him that would listen. She took a step into the hall.

One step left.

"Abby, I—I've got a flight in the morning." He knew this was a horrible thing to say at this moment, but nothing else seemed able to come out.

"John, don't. Don't. Go." She took a deep breath, bit her lip, and then blurted out as much as she could. "I know I've asked a lot of you in all the time I've known you, and I know a lot of it was unfair. I know that I hurt you and I wasn't there for you, and that when you went to Africa the second time that it was partly because of me. I also know that when you came back with Kem and she was pregnant, I hated you, but I hated you because I loved you. And then…and then you lost your baby, and she left, and I thought…I don't know. **That **I don't know. I guess I thought too much time had passed, but that maybe somehow you would come back to me. I didn't feel like I could be the one to make it happen." She paused, very briefly, almost imperceptibly. "I know that last week you announced you were leaving and I realized time had run out, and I let it continue to run out until tonight. I almost let myself walk away from this house and never look back. But I felt my heart breaking, the last piece disappearing, and I knew that this was my last goddamn chance to keep you here. I don't know if it means anything to you anymore, I know that you feel like you have nothing here in Chicago, but I guess what I'm trying to tell you is that I'm here and I love you and I don't know how to live if I never see you again." By now, tears streamed down her face, one of the few times she had let herself cry in front of anyone. Quietly, she repeated her earlier refrain: "Please just don't go." And she searched his face for any sign of forfeit.

"Abby, I…" He slowly let go of the door and reached out to her face, tracing her cheek with his thumb.

One step left.

An eternity—a very large one—passed in that doorway as they stood there just like that. She, with tears falling down her face, and he, with his thumb caressing them. She was waiting for him to tell her he felt the same, that he wouldn't walk away this time. He was waiting to be able to do that for her, to see if he really could.

Because he was crazy about her, and he couldn't live another day without her. He'd lived too many of those days, and it had turned him sour inside.

There were no words, though. Too many words had passed between them with no meaning, with no substance. It had done nothing to repair the past or to redeem the future. All they had now is the present, this present where she stood in front of him, only one step away from breathing his air, feeling his body again. But it was his step to take, his move, because it was him who had made the choice to leave, and she could not pull him back. He had to do it himself.

Of course, he did. These were two people born of one soul, and they could not continue on separately.

He leaned closer, hand still on her face, eyes still matching with hers, and took a step forward. The final step. Without closing his eyes—as people often do—he brought his lips to hers, telling her all she needed to know. That he had spent as many sleepless nights thinking of her, wondering how it could be that they'd moved so far from each other. That he had wondered how to get through days without her, only to find that the only way to do so was to remove himself from her life altogether. For there was no such thing for him as only a little bit of her. It had to be all or nothing.

So he closed the door behind her and brought her into his house. Later he would call the airline and cancel his flight, but first he had other things to do. There were reparations to be made.

And not even a small step left.


End file.
